


If I Risk It All (Could You Break My Fall)

by eruditeprincess



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Basically Lucas is James Bond, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Swearing, basically a James Bond AU, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruditeprincess/pseuds/eruditeprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lucas grew up to be a spy and when he is injured, he goes to Maya, who grew up to become the designer of the gadgets he uses. After years of built up tension, one night breaks everything they've ever known.</p>
<p>Title from Sam Smith's Writings On The Wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Risk It All (Could You Break My Fall)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new fandom for me to write in and I thought why not do a future fic spy AU. I was inspired kind of by James Bond (because I saw Spectre and thought why not). The title is taken from Writings On The Wall and I was listening to it while writing this. I do ship Lucaya and this will have swearing and stuff in. You have been warned. I don't own these characters in any way, shape or form (all the credit for these characters goes to the creators) and I know they are out of character. My tumblr is erudite-princess so feel free to find me there.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and please leave a comment or kudos at the bottom if you enjoy!

His knuckles were raised, paused in position, millimetres from the cherry-red painted wood. He sucked in a long, deep breath as he knocked gently, once, twice, three times.

 

She opened the door on the third knock, wild blonde hair sticking out at multiple angles and framing her enormous blue eyes and elfin features. Her makeup was smudged, leaving dark circles under her eyes, and her hands had tiny paint splatters and charcoal smudges on. She reached up to tuck a stray lock behind her ear, leaving a dark fingerprint on her cheek, as she glared up at him.

"What the fuck do you want at this hour, Friar?" she spat out at him, her eyes narrowing as she stared up into his eyes, her t-shirt slipping off one shoulder.

"Nice to see you too, Hart. Thought I'd let you know I only destroyed one car this time, but if you don't want to know..." his voice trailed off as he began to walk away, the gravel path crunching under his heavy boots.

"Wait!" she called after him, "let me clean you up first."

He turned, facing her once more, "how did you know I was injured?"

"I know you all too well, Huckleberry. Let me guess, bullet to the leg, knife to the arm?"

"You missed the slash to my back, but good job."

"Come on in, cowboy. Let's get ya all fixed up."

 

He walked into her living room, seeing the art supplies strewn across every surface and an easel set up in the corner. He nodded his head towards it, "painting again?"

She ignored him as she strutted into the kitchen, and he heard the water gushing out of the faucet. He watched her come back through with a first aid kit and a glass of water, and he noticed the stains on her hands were gone. She sat down and pulled him down next to her on the couch, before slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, "nice tan. Where were you this time? Italy?"

"No. Greece. Economy's gone to shit but they all still live there. It's like they want to be caught now," he winced as she applied antiseptic to the long, thin gash on his upper arm.

"Some of them might want to. You've brought down loads recently and gained yourself quite the reputation," she examined the cut, which was slightly oozing blood. She wiped the red liquid away and applied pressure, waiting for the blood to stop. She skilfully wrapped it and moved around to his back, pushing his shirt off him and tossing it into a corner.

"True. I spent a while tracking one guy down. He wasn't going down without a fight though, hence the extra five days it took for me to get him," he felt her fingers, cool and still slightly damp, running up his bare back, skittering over hard planes of muscle, trying to find the injury. He felt her warm breath slipping over the smooth skin of his back, and he chuckled, "between the shoulderblades," he advised her.

"Right," she whispered, quickly finding the injury, a smaller cut than the one on his arm. She worked carefully, feeling him tense as the sting of the antiseptic liquid hit the exposed wound. She was faster as she covered it, working with military precision.

"I took the bullet out of my leg already. You just need to check it," he informed her as she moved downwards. She saw the flap from where he'd cut open his trousers, and noticed the darker stain surrounding the hole in the fabric. She winced when she saw the small bullet hole, but examined it and changed the wrapping, finding that the bullet hadn't gone too far into his leg. She ran her fingers over the area around the wound, watching as he hissed slightly in pain. She grinned as she began to make her way back up, her hand resting on his bare chest as she sat back in her seat on the couch.

"You okay there Ranger Rick?"

"I thought I asked you to stop calling me those names. Everyone laughs at me in my section."

"Well, what would you like to be called?" Lucas was immediately reminded of eighth grade, where he was in a similar situation.

 

_"Well, what would you like to be called?" he felt her breath fanning over his face, her lips in reach so if he just leaned down slightly their lips would meet..._

 

He shook his head, snapping himself out of the memory. Her head was slightly tilted and her blue eyes were wide, innocent, as she gazed up at his face.

"I'd like you to call me Lucas."

"No chance of that, agent Huckleberry."

"Oh really?" he leaned down slightly, his eyes flicking down to her lips and back up to meet her eyes, blue meeting green.

"Oh, huckleberry, it's a shame sometimes that you never realised one key thing."

"Which was?"

"Our game never ended," she blinked slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on his, "it just changed."

He began to lean down, just as she began to lean up, and then he could hear the first few notes of  _Bop To The Top_ echo around the apartment, and Maya cursed, before hopping up and padding over to the chair opposite them, hitting the answer button and snarling, "What the fuck do you need, Farkle?" down the phone. Lucas could hear the squeaks of the younger man as he apologised to Maya. She saw Lucas, out of the corner of her eye, going to retrieve his shirt, and she shot her head around to him, shaking her head as she began speaking quietly. He resumed his place on the couch and she, a few moments later, hit end and threw her phone back on the chair, before going back over to him and resuming her previous position, her hand on his chest and her looking up at him.

"Fucking Q division. Can't handle two minutes without their designer. Plus they changed my ringtone to fucking _Bop To The Top._ I swear to God, without me they wouldn't last two hours."

"Bit presumptuous, eh, Hart?"

"Nah. I mean, with Farkle they'll probably last a few more weeks but for some of them I make sure they actually eat. Now, where were we?" she stared up at him, her lips quirked up into a smirk. She leaned slightly closer, until she could smell his cologne coming off his neck. She nestled her head in there, watching his chest rise and fall and waiting. He turned his head and pressed a small kiss to her hair, and her pulse sped up slightly. She lifted her head up off his shoulder, and he watched the movement, before she looked up at him again.

 

Their eyes met and he immediately bent down, crushing their lips together in a searing kiss they'd been holding back from for way too long. It was the kiss that they'd almost had in Texas, all those years ago, and he wondered why they hadn't done it sooner. Her lips gently parted under his, slightly chapped. She nibbled his lip as she sucked it into her mouth, and he groaned gently at the sensations running through him from that. His hands went up to tangle in her hair, and one of her hands was cupping his cheek, calloused fingertips sliding over his cheekbone. She let go of it and he pulled away from the kiss, catching his breath slightly. She connected their lips once more in a slightly gentler kiss, a warm, wet one full of promise from her. When she pulled away, her lips were beautifully red, and her eyelashes were fanned out over the remainder of old makeup. She rubbed her nose against his and pulled back slightly, and he nodded at her, untangling his large hands from her hair. She straddled him and began kissing his jaw, tiny butterfly kisses that sent tingles down his spine. She was careful not to hit his injured leg as she readjusted herself, moving her lips down to his neck and latching on the point where his neck met his shoulder. He groaned lowly as her teeth grazed over the soft skin and bit gently, before whispering, "we should stop," into her hair. She let go immediately, watching a purple bruise bloom.

"Riley is going to kill us tomorrow," she whispered as she sat up, before going to stand, quickly finding him a blanket and tossing it to him.

"I don't care," he whispered back, watching her put her things away around the room, "am I okay to spend the night?"

"Sure. But take my bed," she spoke at normal volume, going over to him and taking the blanket away, "I'll take the couch."

"Fine. Night, Hart."

"Goodnight, Lucas," she murmured to his retreating back.

 

If she climbed into bed with him that night and woke up with his arms wrapped around her, a whisper of "we can't tell Riley about this" exchanged that morning as she grabbed a spare outfit for him from the 'Lucas' drawer as he made pancakes, and then them going into work together and him pointedly coming down to ask her to lunch bothered her at all, she didn't show it.

 

She didn't care.

 

And when, that evening, she found him on her doorstep again, she just wordlessly invited him in. When his lips met hers once more, she knew she was falling for him. She knew, as she lay on her bed, bare, that evening, that it couldn't last. She knew he was risking himself for her.

 

She knew it was dangerous to love someone who could come home in a body bag one day. He knew it was illogical to fall in love with a girl he'd grown up with and who now designed gadgets for him to use. They knew he'd never give up his job; they didn't care.

 

For now, they'd risk it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment or leave kudos at the bottom if you like this?


End file.
